


Of Escaping Fire and Ink

by itscheese



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AKAASHI PARKOURS, M/M, also kenma has a cat!, also theres no kuroken, borderline bokuroo in one scene lol, but it could be seen as such, but you could take it as kuroken, hey look my first fic is haikyuu who wouldve guessed, i dont actually know anything about parkour so lol its probably totally wrong, so its platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 15:53:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9190427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itscheese/pseuds/itscheese
Summary: The first time Bokuto sees him he's not entirely sure what hes looking at. It's cold, he's cold, but he finds himself unable to move. Transfixed by the perfect grace this person possesses. By the time he finally looks away, he's freezing. But he doesn't care, because all he can think is that he wants to find this man, and kiss him.





	

The first time Bokuto sees him he's sitting on the fire escape outside the window of his apartment.

It's a cold night, but the man either doesn't notice, or doesn't mind. Bokuto stares at him as he jumps from roof to roof, gliding through the air and landing with grace. From his perch on the unforgiving metal, Bokuto can see him stop for a moment. The man twists his head from side to side as if searching for something, then continues on to the next building. This time he doesn't stop. As he lands, he rolls and springs back up lightly, sprinting before propelling himself onto the next roof.

Bokuto watches, the crisp night air seeping the warmth out of his coffee, as the man runs. He watches until the faint moonlight is the only thing to see by. He watches until the man disappears behind a too tall skyscraper.

Bokuto likes to tell himself that he doesn’t think much of the mysterious man after that, but he really needs to stop lying to himself.

 

(And no one needs to know if he stayed out on the fire escape until his coffee was freezing and all the movement in his joints had dissipated. And no one needs to know that when he shook out of his stupor and tore his eyes away from the skyscraper, it was well past three am.)

-

 

The second time Bokuto sees him he’s leaning back on a metal chair in a cafe two streets down from his apartment that he often frequents. In front of him, in all his bead-headed glory, is his best friend. Kuroo Tetsurou. 

“Bo, if you lean back any further you’re going to fall,” Kuroo raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his tea.

Bokuto has never been exceptionally good at listening to advice.

As his head tips backwards, so does his chair, it slams into the ground with a loud bang. Bokuto ends up sprawled on the floor as everyone in the patio turns to stare at him. Kuroo, the asshole, only raises his other eyebrow as the hand not occupied by his tea uncurls itself from Bokuto’s mug, his fast reflexes the only thing keeping Bokuto dry as he fell. He groans and closes his eyes, looking away from those of his friend.

He continues lying on the floor, one of his arms and half of his back wedged tightly between the metal armrest and the seat. He’s dragged out of his misery by a soft voice.

“Sir? Do you need any help?”

Bokuto open his eyes and comes face to face with the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on. With black curls and blue-grey eyes, this man could be an angel. 

Bokuto realizes he’s been staring when the man’s cheeks colour. Akaashi, reads his name tag. “Oh, uh. Yeah, thanks,” Smooth Bokuto. The man- Akaashi- steps away and walks around Bokuto’s form, coming into view in front of him. 

Despite his lean frame, this guy is strong. He lifts Bokuto’s chair, along with Bokuto in it, into an upright position, grasping at Bokuto’s free shoulder as he goes. Thus, managing to unstick his left arm from its uncomfortable position and leave the passageway into the cafe empty of stupid grown up men who can’t even sit properly on their chairs.

“Are you alright?” Bokuto startles, having been too busy glaring at his best friend. Akaashi’s looking at him expectantly. He turns to look up at him.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for helping me up,” He dusts off his shirt and tries not to look too flustered at having this man’s attention focused entirely on him. Behind him Kuroo snickers. Akaashi’s eyes slide over to give Kuroo a once over and he promptly shuts up.

The waiter addresses both of them now, as if he just realized there were two people at the table. “Can I get you anything else, sirs?”

“I’m Kuroo, and this is Bokuto, and no thank you. We need to be leaving now, or we’ll be late to our movie,” Kuroo clears his throat and gestures wildly to Bokuto, who slowly turns to look at him. And then his head snaps back to Akaashi.

“Wait a minute, you’re- Kuroo,” he turns to look at his friend, “That’s the man that was- You,” He turns back to Akaashi, who looks as confused as Kuroo, “You’re the guy that was jumping from roo-,” 

“Whatever you’re going to say, you’d better say it in the next three seconds because, if we don’t want to miss Rogue Zero you’ll need to move faster,” Kuroo grabs his arm and yanks him out of his chair. Bokuto doesn’t even have time to register what’s going on before Kuroo has them halfway down the street, leaving behind a few hastily thrown bills on the table and an extremely confused Akaashi staring at them as they recede into the sea of people.

When he does register, it’s already too late. They’re entering the cinema when Bokuto slips his arm from Kuroo’s grasp and looks back at the glass doors. “Man, that was the guy I was telling you about,” he turns to look at Kuroo as his eyes light in recognition.

“Wait. You mean the hardcore parkour guy?”

“Yeah,” Bokuto stares at the cue ahead of them wistfully.

“How did you even know it was him though? I thought you said that you couldn’t see much that night,” Kuroo locks eyes with Bokuto and raises an eyebrow, again.

“I don’t know how to describe it man, but it was him. I’m sure of it,” Kuroo sighs and raises his shoulders in a shrug.

“Ok, sure. Whatever you say, dude. Sweet or salty?”

“Sweet! Duh. Salty popcorn is the most disgusting thing to ever exist on this beautiful planet.”

 

(And no one needs to know that Bokuto doesn’t remember the movie at all because he was too busy thinking of blue eyes and black, messy hair and name tags that read Akaashi.)

-

 

The third time Bokuto sees him it’s entirely an accident. How was he supposed to know that you’re not supposed to grab the bottom box of cereal in a pile of boxes of cereal?

The third time Bokuto sees him, he’s sitting under a mountain of Koko Krunch boxes

He was shopping (Yes, I know Kuroo. Amazing. Yes, I can be responsible. Now shut up before I tell Kenma abou-). Keyword being was.

He had happily been picking up meats and candies and drinks and then he had remembered that he had run out of cereal the day before, and that was completely unacceptable. So he ran to the cereal aisle, only to find that his favourite cereal was stacked in a pile reaching above his head. So Bokuto did the easiest thing he could think of, and grabbed a box that was at hip level. And then he had a split second to regret all his life choices before the boxes came tumbling down. 

Bokuto lies dazed, half buried and in pain, what with sharp corners of cardboard boxes digging into his legs and arms. He realizes that his basket was probably flung away from him during his fall, its contents most likely spewed all over the ground. He groans. God, he’s so stupid.

He collects himself for a moment, then sighs and sits up, a couple of boxes sliding down and coming to rest on his lap. Just then, since fate apparently has it out for him, he appears.

“Oh god, are you alright?” he asks, setting down his own basket and kneeling down next to him. Bokuto looks up at him and flushes in embarrassment.

“Yeah, uh. Not really,” Bokuto focuses his gaze down at his lap and fiddles with one of the boxes. After a second, he feels a tentative touch on his arm.

“Are you hurt?” If possible, his voice has gotten even softer. And is that- concern? And all of a sudden, it registers in Bokuto’s mind that oh god, he’s touching me. He’s actually touching me. Akaashi, the prettiest person ever, who I probably don’t deserve to look at me, is touching me. He jerks out of Akaashi’s touch so fast that he ends up knocking into the remaining couple of boxes in the stack, and they too come crashing down.

“Do you-” Akaashi reaches out, as if to touch him again, but thinks better of it and instead curls his fingers into his thigh. “Do you need help?” Bokuto falters and turns back to look at him. His eyes are flitting over everything except Bokuto’s face. 

“Uhh, yeah. Thanks, that’d be nice,” he smiles a little and Akaashi finally meets his eyes. Akaashi takes him in for a moment before standing up and grasping Bokuto’s hands. 

Again, Bokuto finds himself needing a second to come to terms with how strong Akaashi is. He just, hauled him up. Him. An eighty kilogram grown-ass man.

He shakes his head to get rid of those thoughts (no matter how incredibly amazing Akaashi is) and realizes that he’s staring at Akaashi. He’s also still holding his hands. Bokuto rips his hands from Akaashi’s and hides them behind his back, flushing again. He does not, however look away from Akaashi, because that would just be stupid. (He also does not think that the reddish tint in the other man’s cheeks is cute, because he is not a high schooler with a silly crush anymore.)

Bokuto rubs the back of his neck and lets out a strained laugh, “You always seem to find me when I’m in the middle of doing something stupid, huh?” But Akaashi doesn’t laugh, instead he narrows his (beautiful) eyes at Bokuto.

“Wait you’re-” he comes to some sort of realization and his flush deepens. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you Bokuto-san,”

And that’s it. 

He hears his name leave those lips and he’s gone.

Bokuto’s dead. He’s definitely dead. He died crushed under a mountain of boxes and is now in heaven where he can live out all his fantasies with the most angelic person ever to exist and-.

He didn’t say that out loud did he?

Bokuto blushes in mortification and looks away, at the same time as Akaashi. And now the both of them are blushing and looking at anywhere but each other like a bunch of 13 year olds and Bokuto’s ruined any semblance of a chance that he had with this man because he couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut.

He runs a hand through his hair (which he stopped styling upwards when he graduated because he needed to grow up sometime) and decides that he needs to man up and stop blushing for god’s sake.

Instead, he chokes out something that sounds vaguely like ‘goodbye’, gathers his spilled things into his basket and runs.

He’s halfway back home before he realizes that he forgot his cereal.

 

(And no one needs to know that he stumbled into his bed after he arrived and didn’t get up to put his groceries away until at least ten past eleven in the evening. And no one needs to know if Bokuto prefers shopping in the morning or if he had any lunch that day.)

-

 

The fourth time Bokuto sees him he’d decided to crash at Kuroo’s for the night. 

It had been months since he’d last slept over at Kuroo’s place and he missed it (definitely not because Kenma’s cat was the cutest thing ever and especially not because Kenma made the best coffee in the entire world). And by it he meant Kuroo. 

Only Kuroo.

When he arrives, he’s greeted by a soft meowing and Cricket rubbing against his leg.

“Hi there Ket,” Bokuto kneels down and rubs the cat behind his ears, dropping his duffel somewhere behind him. Soft footsteps trailing from the living room stop in front of Bokuto, and all he hears afterwards is a long suffering sigh.

“I thought I told you not to call him that,” A pair of arms reach into view and scoop up the cat and Bokuto finally acknowledges one of his hosts by hugging him tightly and tucking him under his chin, crushing Cricket between them.

“I’m sorry Kenma-”

“No you’re not-”

“I just love Ket so much that I need to-”

“Bro!” His hug is cut short by the appearance of Kuroo. Bokuto lets go of Kenma and rushes forward into Kuroo’s arms where he’s swept off his feet and swung around in a circle before Kuroo gently deposits him on the floor. Kuroo’s hands slide up from Bokuto’s hips to rest on his cheeks, his thumbs rubbing small circles under Bokuto’s eyes.

“I missed you,” he whispers, his breath ghosting along Bokuto’s nose. Bokuto finds himself relaxing into Kuroo’s touch, a soft smile playing at his lips. His arms circle around Kuroo tighter and he draws him flush against his chest, leaning up on his tiptoes to rest his forehead against Kuroo.

“I missed you too,” Kuroo smiles and slips his hands to the back of Bokuto’s head and, impossibly, pulls them closer together. He looks into Bokuto’s eyes and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Oh my god, you two are ridiculous,” Kenma is looking away, horrified, and he turns around to head back into the living room.

“Aww no, c’mon. Don’t be that way,” Kuroo grins at Bokuto and they separate, both of them in hysterics as they follow Kenma into the living room, Bokuto snagging his duffel on the way.

It’s too early to start drinking at this hour, but Kuroo and Bokuto are not deterred, not when they’re determined to have fun. Kenma eyes Kuroo warily as he disappears into Kenma’s room, but he doesn’t get up. After a moment of hesitation, Bokuto sits down next to Kenma and starts to pet Cricket who’s lying in Kenma’s lap. The cat looks up at Kenma and then at Bokuto and slowly crawls over to the latter. Kenma glares half-heartedly up at Bokuto who grins and strokes Cricket’s tail. Kuroo enters the room with three Wii controllers in one hand and a disc in the other.

“Ooh, what’re we playing?” Bokuto lifts up Cricket and drops him into Kenma’s lap, making grabby motions for one of the controllers. Kuroo slides the disc into the Wii, but before he turns on the TV he turns dramatically to Bokuto.

“Mario Kart,” He throws a controller at Bokuto and as he slips into Kenma’s other side, hands him the third one.

“Kenma, you know I love you-”

“You don’t-”

“But I want you to know that this time, me and Bo are gonna crush you-”

“No you’re not,” Kenma sighs and selects the game, choosing to go straight to the difficult courses.

“Oh Kenma, you wound me. Rainbow Road, really?” Bokuto slides down off the couch and crosses his legs on the floor. Enough experience has taught him that he can’t play within arm range of other people during Mario Kart.

“You’re really not,” Kenma says as both Bokuto and Kuroo fall off the road.

 

Thirty-three rounds later, and thirty-three consecutive losses on both Bokuto’s and Kuroo’s part, they decide to stop playing.

Somewhere around round sixteen Kuroo broke out the alcohol, and Bokuto had steadily been getting drunker and drunker. Kenma, the smart one, had denied a third drink, and is still nursing his second beer.

After they turn off the game, Kenma bids them both goodnight and retires to his room, which as Kuroo loudly whispers to Bokuto, doesn’t mean he’s actually going to sleep. Bokuto nods his understanding enthusiastically and almost knocks his head into Kuroo’s, causing them both to burst out in laughter.

“Hey,” Bokuto tugs on Kuroo’s hand, “Do you maybe wanna go look at the stars, maybe?”

“You said maybe twice, idiot,” but he follows Bokuto to the balcony regardless.

As they sit there, Bokuto leaning his head on Kuroo’s shoulder, the conversation somehow turns to Akaashi.

“Just, you know, he’s so pretty,” Bokuto complains and Kuroo pats his head reassuringly.

“I didn’t manage to get that good a look at him, but I trust you man,” Both of them are quiet for a while before Kuroo points to something in the distance. From the twenty-first floor, they’re higher up than the majority of the buildings in the area, leaving them a clear view of many rooftops nearby.

“Holy- is that?” Bokuto follows Kuroo’s finger and squints at the horizon.

“Akaashi?!” Bokuto can see him clearly now. Someone is definitely jumping over roofs and hopping over the low rises between buildings.

“Hey, don’t you have like, a crush on him or something?” Kuroo pokes him in the cheek and draws his attention for a moment, before Bokuto goes back to blatantly staring at Akaashi. 

He shrugs, “Yeah, I guess.”

“How can you ‘guess’? You either like him or you don’t,” Bokuto takes a deep breath and nods.

“Yeah, you’re right. I do like him. I do!” Kuroo nods along with him.

“You should do something about it. Ask him out or something.”

“I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna ask him out. Next time I see him, I’ll do it!” 

 

(And no one needs to know if the next time Bokuto saw Akaashi he barely managed to get a word out, stuttering and blushing. And no one needs to know if it took at least eleven more tries before he managed do good on his promise to Kuroo.)

-

 

The sixteenth time Bokuto sees him he’s startled into consciousness by a loud crash.  
It had been a long day. He had woken up late to a coffee date with Kuroo, then missed his train and had to call a cab, then he’d run out of money and Kuroo had to buy his lunch. After lunch, it started pouring and he got soaked. His train had been delayed though, so he wasn’t able to change into warm clothes, causing him to catch a cold. Once he got home, he had had no dinner, too tired to do anything but put on his pyjamas collapse into bed.

But at one in the morning he had been dragged back to suffering in reality by something crashing in his living room. Disoriented and mildly afraid, Bokuto’s first thought is Cricket, but then he remembers that Cricket doesn’t actually belong to him (yet) and he’s suddenly a lot more afraid and a lot less disoriented.

He stumbles out of bed and winces at the noise he makes, he doesn’t want to alert whoever it is that he’s awake. Bokuto grabs the nearest thing that could be used as a weapon and makes his way to the living room.

As he creeps around the corner of the hallway, he sees a shadow move around. That means that for sure there’s someone who shouldn’t be there in his apartment, since Kuroo would message him before arriving at his place. Bokuto takes a steadying breath before gripping the belt he grabbed with both fists and charging the person.

There’s a scuffle. The person sees him coming and dodges, causing Bokuto to crash into his coffee table. He gets up and charges again, they dodge again, but they trip on a sofa cushion and fall to the ground with a grunt. Before they get up, Bokuto’s at them again. The person isn’t weak by all means. The two of them roll around on the floor, no one gaining the upper hand, until the person knocks their head into the leg of the coffee table and they falter. Bokuto manages to pin them down with his knees on their thighs and his hands holding their wrists above their head. He’s panting, his heart beating rapidly with adrenaline coursing through his veins. As his vision adjusts to the darkness the face of the person becomes clearer.

“Akaashi?!” Bokuto’s confused. Why was Akaashi here? What was he doing in his apartment at one in the morning? Was he alright? His eyes open wider, taking in the shocked look on Akaashi’s face. He completely forgets any and all possible socially acceptable reactions to what has happened.

“Bokuto-san, If you don’t mind?” Akaashi has composed himself it seems. His nonchalant mask falling perfectly into place, he looks calm even. Bokuto realizes the position he’s in and quickly scrambles backwards, apologizing profusely. Akaashi sits up as well and rubs at his head, in the spot where he hit the coffee table. Bokuto, with red ears, apologizes even more.

“Oh my gosh Akaashi, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was you. I swear I didn’t do it on purpose,” He leans forward and gently prods at the small bump forming along Akaashi’s hairline. Bokuto feels terrible, first he attacked Akaashi, then he hurt him. He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t realize he’s been running his fingers through Akaashi’s hair in soothing motions until he feels him tense under his touch. Akaashi’s staring at him with wide eyes and Bokuto freezes, slowly retracting his hand.

“I uhh, I’ll go get the first aid kit,” He gets up and rushes to turn on the lights to the living room, flooding in in a bright yellow haze.

“Bokuto-san, wait!” Bokuto turns to see Akaashi getting up, “I’m fine, really. I’m not hurt,” Akaashi takes a step forward and holds out his hands. He’s dressed in all black, and despite it being cold outside, is only wearing an oversized hoodie.

Bokuto tilts his head to the side, considering, “If you’re not hurt,” he chooses his words carefully, “Then why are you here?”

Akaashi seems stumped by his question. He opens his mouth then closes it, opens it and closes it again. A little crease forms between his eyebrows as he frowns (and Bokuto by no means thinks it’s cute). “I- I was jumping from the building next to this one,” he decides, “And I slipped. So instead of falling to my death, I went inside the nearest open window, which happened to be yours, Bokuto-san,” He pauses for a moment, frown deepening at Bokuto, “You really shouldn’t keep your window open like that Bokuto-san, it’s dangerous. A robber might climb in through your window and murder you in your sleep with a belt,” He nods to the bright gold belt in Bokuto’s hands and he looks away quickly, the red in his ears seeping into his cheeks.

“Do you want to go home?” Bokuto asks the wall.

“Yes please,” Bokuto can hear Akaashi stepping forward, but he doesn’t anticipate the light touch on his arm. “Thank you for not accidentally killing me, Bokuto-san.” Bokuto lets out a light laugh and turns to take in Akaashi’s beauty one last time before he leaves.

“The uhh, door’s this way,” He steps out of Akaashi’s hand and leads him to his front door. Akaashi’s stepping through his door and into the hallway and Bokuto finds his arm wrapped around Akaashi’s wrist. He turns to look at him and raises an eyebrow and Bokuto loses all confidence.

But he made a promise to Kuroo. Bokuto clears his throat, “Akaashi, would you maybe like to grab coffee sometime? With me?” Bokuto can’t make himself look away from his shoe rack, but peeks down at Akaashi when he pulls his wrist away and starts writing on Bokuto’s hand with a pen he pulled from his pocket.

Bokuto spies the beginnings of what look like a phone number and Akaashi smiles, “I’m free on Thursday at 4.”

 

(And no one needs to know that the first thing Bokuto did when Akaashi left was grab his phone to type in the number left on his hand. And no one needs to know that Bokuto and Akaashi weren’t the only ones awake after Bokuto screams into his phone for nearly an hour.)

-

Bonus Scene:

The first time Kenma sees him he’s curled up on the couch with Cricket between his arms purring softly.

He’s jarred out of a state of half-awareness and half-sleep by the doorbell. He groans and curls up around Cricket tighter, waiting for Kuroo to get the door.

Nobody walks past the couch.

Kenma groans again.

“Kuro!” Nothing.

“Kuroo!” A loud thump from the bathroom and a muffled reply. 

“Coming!” Just as the doorbell rings for a second time, Kuroo barrels past him and answers the door. Kenma hears an extremely loud ‘Hey, hey, hey!’ and discards any thoughts he had of getting up to greet anyone, whoever they may be.

It’s only when he hears a soft voice that definitely doesn’t belong to Kuroo or Bokuto’s boisterous laughter, that Kenma blearily blinks his eyes open and sits up.

By the time their guests make their way over to the living room, Kenma has managed to curl up into yet another small ball, but this time Kuroo doesn’t let him stay that way for long. He scoops him up and deposits him in an upright position with Cricket in his lap. Kenma’s trapped by the arm rest on one side and Kuroo on the other but he finds he doesn’t much mind the lack of space. Not when there’s someone he’s never seen before not five feet away from him.

Kenma looks up at Bokuto for an an explanation as the shorter man takes in his and Kuroo’s apartment. He realizes that Bokuto and the man are holding hands and slowly blinks once to double check just as the former clears his throat.

“Kenma,” He’s addressing him? “I’d like to formally introduce you to Akaashi Keiji, my boyfriend.”

He seems nervous, Kenma can’t imagine why though. Akaashi seems nice enough, even if he is narrowing his eyes at Kuroo disdainfully.

“And I’d like to formally introduce you to a brush,” he deadpans, unlinking his hand from Bokuto’s to stick it in Kuroo’s space for a handshake. He doesn’t ignore Kenma, giving him a small smile when he locks eyes with him, but he turns back immediately to Kuroo when he let’s out an affronted squawk.  
(Kenma finds that he also doesn’t mind not having to interact with Akaashi, he seems to understand his need for space- not that he has any now.)

Meanwhile, Kuroo’s still spluttering indignantly, and Bokuto, ever the helpful friend, is in hysterics. He does, once in a while between his guffaws, look over at Akaashi fondly; who still has his hand stretched out with a devious smirk on his face as Kuroo dramatically grasps at his shirt above his heart.

From his seat on the couch, with Cricket snuggling into his thighs, Kenma snorts and looks up at Akaashi, “I like you.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I'd like you all to know that that bonus scene was entirely inspired by the joke Akaashi makes. Also because of his joke the whole plot changed. (Thanks Akaashi)
> 
> And since she doesn't have a tumblr or anything else I can link her to, I'd like to say thanks here to Trini who helped me out (sorry Cat) and isn't technically my beta reader but she might as well be? So yeah, thanks Trini for bearing with me bothering you at 4 in the morning.
> 
> (Also the working title was Akaashi Parkours I'm so lame)


End file.
